First Meeting
by jamesgatz1925
Summary: An add-on to my Paragraphs of Parenthood where Sherlock and John invite Amy to meet Ian. I don't own Sherlock and John.
1. Chapter 1

When Ian was six, Amy called. Of course John answered, he's always answered when she called; he answered before Ian was born; he answered when Ian was two and she remembered his birthday; he answered when Ian was four and she just wanted to say hello. He's always answered. But John, dear John was territorial. He didn't think it was a good idea for Ian to meet Amy. Amy was by no means his mother, and if she was to meet Ian, she'd be introduced as their old friend. Each party involved agreed that was the best plan, if ever it needed to be put into action. But she had been one of Sherlock's closest friends, of course she needed to meet his son.

So John answered and Sherlock talked. Sherlock talked to her for two hours before Ian even came into conversation.

"How is he, Sherlock?"

"He's…" Sherlock smiled from ear to ear, because honestly people asking how his son is never got old, "He's perfect, he really is."

"He's healthy and everything? He's…good?"

"Yes, he is. He's kind of small, but then I'm kind of skinny, and his hair is straighter than mine, but yours is straight, right?"

"So he's…" Amy wasn't sure how to ask, even though Sherlock practically just spelled it out for her, "He's _yours_?"

Sherlock's smile faded. John's-His, he hated labeling their son that way. But he wasn't going to be rude to Amy like he was rude to Anderson and Dimmock. "Yeah, he's _mine._"

"I had that feeling."

"I never did, but, you know."

"He always, sort of, fluttered when you were around. But then again, so did I."

"I know."

Sherlock is absolutely no idiot. He knew Amy had a crush on him, of course he had. He saw, he heard, he felt the way he knew John felt at first. The difference, of course, was that he reciprocated to John, not Amy of course. It was _JohnJohnJohn _and it always will be.

"So, listen, Sherlock…"

"Yes?"

Amy was silent, then she slowly took a deep breath and exhaled, "I'm, well, I'm going to be visiting London in two weeks; seeing my mum for a couple of days."

Sherlock's chest fluttered and his mouth ticked in a quick smile, "And?"

"And, oh you idiot. You know what I'm getting at."

"Of course I know. You _want _to meet him? Is that going to be…alright?"

"If it's alright with you. And John, of course."

"I'll run it by him and see what he thinks, ok?"

"Yes, of course. And if not, Sherlock, I'd love to see you. Catch up and all."

"Yes, yes of course. I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

"Perfect."

"Goodbye, Amy." Sherlock hung up with a smile on his face.

Later that night, John wasn't too thrilled about the idea. He made an unsure face as Sherlock repeated the conversation to John. When Sherlock stopped talking, John looked at him.

"Well?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know, Sherlock."

"I knew you'd say that."

"Can you blame me?"

"What's the worse that can happen?"

"Really, Sherlock?"

"She knows he's ours, John. To be honest I feel she wants to meet him as her friends' son, not as the child she gave birth to and _gave_ to us."

"Now, don't say it like that."

"Don't act like something bad is going to happen, alright? I trust it, I trust her, you should, too. I'm going to see her, and I want her to meet Ian."

"So, now you make the executive decisions?"

"Well, I-"

"Well what, Sherlock?"

Sherlock remained silent. He didn't like arguing. He sat in his chair and fluffed the newspaper back up in his face.

"You're right," John mumbled while turning into the hallway to their bedroom, "You're his father, you make the decisions." He went into their room.

Sherlock heard him and the words registered immediately. It hurt him, saying Ian was _his _son, and he knew John meant it that way. It wasn't often John felt detached from the two of them, usually when they spoke their own language or Sherlock messed around with him instead of punishing him. But it definitely hurt Sherlock more, in unexplainable ways.

Sherlock felt his face turn red hot and distantly felt himself standing from his chair and followed John.

"Sherlock?" John asked, looking over his shoulder at his husband who was red with fierce eyes.

Sherlock turned John around, and without even realizing it, he punched John in the face; not nearly as hard as he could, but he gave his husband a good one. John fell to the ground and Sherlock straddled him, pinning his arms to each side of his head and shouted, "Don't you ever, _ever _say that again, John! If I ever so much as hear you explain that biologically he has my DNA, I swear to you that I will put you through a wall quicker than you can know what's happening."

Sherlock's face and eyes were dark and John was scared. John just nodded and felt blood trickle from his cheekbone to the floor underneath him. Sherlock loosened on John's arms, and the moment John saw a little bit of color come back to Sherlock's eyes, he fought his left arm out of Sherlock's grasp and wrapped that arm around Sherlock's neck. John pulled the tall man to himself and pressed his head into his own neck.

"Ssshh," John tried to calm Sherlock, who was now silently sobbing into John's neck, "It's ok, I'm sorry, Sherlock, I'm so sorry. I didn't-" John swallowed and pulled his other arm around John's neck, "I didn't mean to say it, you know that." He kissed Sherlock's temple and nuzzled his face into his husband's black curls.


	2. Chapter 2

When John woke up, he was being pushed off the bed by Ian's feet, his tiny monkey toes digging into his dad's back forcing him to inch away from the small creature. Ian's head was resting on Sherlock's back, and even though their bed wasn't that big, there was enough space between John and Sherlock for Ian to be completely horizontal between them.

John glanced at the clock, it was three in the morning. Him and Sherlock had just gone to sleep three hours ago, no doubt Ian heard them fighting and came to their aid immediately. John got out of bed, picked Ian up, and made to take him back to his own bed, but when John tried to lay him down again Ian clung onto him like his life depended on it. John trotted back up the stairs with their sleeping six-year-old in his arms, and once he got back to bed he laid Ian on his chest and closed his eyes. In minutes, he felt Sherlock shift and soon Sherlock was stuck to John's side like Ian was.

Right before John fell asleep, he realized he shouldn't have anything to worry about with Amy visiting. And he wanted to show Sherlock that everything with them was perfect and that he trusted Sherlock and Amy both.

Sherlock called Amy right away the next day. He said he'd meet her at the coffee shop they used to go to all the time in two weeks, two Tuesdays from that day, so they could catch up first. Sherlock was very excited to see her, he almost wanted to fly her out there that very moment, but she had her work to finish and said she'd see him in two weeks.

Ian didn't understand anything that was happening, of course. All he knew was Daddy's good friend is coming to visit, Dad was _kind of _upset about it, he was allowed to sleep with them every night if he wanted -which wasn't a common occurrence- and Daddy was very, very happy.

"Why's Daddy so happy about his friend coming?"

"He hasn't seen her since," John swallowed and felt himself getting awkward, but Ian didn't catch on, "Since you were born."

"Why does he need another friend?"

"Daddy's not allowed to have friends?"

"I guess he can, if it's ok with you."

"It's fine with me."

"Are they going to talk a lot, like adults do with Daddy?"

"I suppose they will."

"And are they going to hug?"

"Is that what friends do?"

"I don't know, I just thought that's what you're for." Ian pointed his tiny finger at John.

"Yeah," John smiled and chuckled a bit, "That's what _we're _for." John pointed his finger between himself and his son.

Finally, Tuesday arrived and Sherlock was eagerly pacing the living room. Ian and John sat on the couch watching him go back and forth. After an hour of watching, Ian stepped in line behind Sherlock and, with the same exact look on his face, paced behind Sherlock. When Sherlock turned around to start again, he and Ian smacked right into each other.

"Oh!" Sherlock exclaimed, "Ian, what are you doing?"

"Thinking, ssshh. You're putting me off."

John got the widest grin on his face and tried his hardest not to laugh in fear that he, too, would be putting Ian off.

Around noon, Sherlock left the flat to meet Amy. Ian wanted to go, he begged Sherlock to take him, but John managed to bribe Ian with Peter Pan. Once the DVD was in, Sherlock slipped out and got a cab.

Sherlock sat at a table and fidgeted. He tapped a straw on the table, his leg bounced up and down, his fingers twitched, he couldn't sit still. He stared out the window and felt his heart jump with each passing cab. Finally, ten minutes late, Amy showed up. She got out of the cab, paid the driver, paused outside the coffee shop, took a deep breath, and went inside. Sherlock saw the whole thing, and once she was inside, he raised a hand to show where he was. Amy smiled wide and made her way across the shop to Sherlock. He stood and embraced her into a tight hug, he remembered her scent and the way she felt against him, it's just this time she didn't have a baby in her belly. He chuckled as he thought about that, that the baby from her belly was perched on his couch watching Peter Pan for the third time that day.

"It's so great to see you, Sherlock."

"You too, Amy. It's been very…different, to say the least."

"I feel like it's been a million years. I feel like Ian should be graduating from Oxford this summer."

"Practically. That kid rivals me in intellect."

Amy smiled as Sherlock talked about Ian; he told her about Ian's rough time with school, Ian's Christmases, the things he and Ian do together, the fact that Ian is mini-him.

"So, is he like John at all?"

"Oh, gosh." Sherlock sipped his coffee and laughed, "He's exactly like John. He's so caring and loving, he's so funny and sarcastic, just his general facial expressions are so John. He has this one look especially for me, when I'm getting on _his _nerves, that's the same face John uses that says, 'Geez, Sherlock, shut the hell up,'. It's the funniest thing."

"He sounds wonderful, Sherlock."

"He really is," Sherlock sipped his coffee again, "So, would you like to accompany us for dinner tomorrow evening?"

"You know, I'd love to."

"Great. John's cooking, just come to the flat around 6?"

"Perfect. Should I bring anything?"

"Nothing particular."

"But I will bring something. Anything I should _avoid _bringing?"

"Let's see," Sherlock thought, "Ian doesn't much like chocolate, odd child. But he does like gummy or hard candy, like fruity candy. Actually, John doesn't like to give him candy at all." Sherlock paused and looked at Amy, "On second thought, bring candy." Sherlock and Amy smiled and laughed with each other for two more hours, then Sherlock returned to 221B.

"How's your friend, Daddy?"

"She's great. She's coming here tomorrow."

"She is? And I'll meet her?" Sherlock nodded. "Sounds wonderful, Daddy." Sherlock patted his head and went to the kitchen.

The next day, at quarter-after 6, the doorbell to 221B rang. Ian jumped up to get the door, but Sherlock stood after him and told Ian to stand down. Sherlock went to the door and opened it for Amy, who stood on the other side looking nervous.

"Good evening, Amy!" Sherlock said, throwing his arms around Amy.

"Hello, Sherlock, how is your evening?"

"It's fine," Sherlock took her coat and hung it on the hook, "John's just in the kitchen."


	3. Chapter 3

Amy turned the corner to the kitchen and saw Ian. It was the first time she'd ever seen him, apart from one or two family photos over the years. Amy felt as though her heart stopped when she laid eyes on Ian; he was beautiful. He looked just like Sherlock, honestly Amy couldn't see any of her in the boy. Her eyes started to water and she put her hand to her mouth. She smiled at him and he blinked up at her confused. He was going to ask why she was about to cry when John's hand pressed her shoulder.

"Amy, are you ok?"

Amy looked away from Ian and looked to John. She embraced John in a large hug and said, "John! I'm fine, I'm fine, just…allergies." John looked at her concerned, then he hugged her again and patted her back.

"It's ok, sweetie."

She buried her head in John's shoulder, sniffled, then pulled away when she felt Sherlock's hand on her shoulder. "Amy, is everything ok?"

"Fine, fine!"

Ian just watched her. He looked very concerned. He stood in his chair and let Sherlock pull him into his arms.

"Amy, it's a pleasure to introduce to you Mister Ian Holmes-Watson." Sherlock fondly smiled at Ian.

Ian took Amy's hand and kissed it. "The pleasure is all mine, madam," he said.

Sherlock grabbed his hand and looked at him. "I told you to stop doing that, son."

"No, no, it's ok!" Amy said. "The pleasure is mine, Mister Ian." She curtsied in front of him and Sherlock.

Ian got embarrassed and buried his face in Sherlock's neck, his hair tickling Sherlock's nose. Everyone laughed and Sherlock put Ian back in his seat.

"Dinner's almost ready, Amy. I hope you're hungry. We are eating," John motioned Amy to the stove and pulled the pot lid off the pot, "Mac and cheese!"

"My favorite!" Ian shouted.

"Sounds wonderful!" Amy left John and went back to Ian, "I almost forgot, Ian, I brought you a little something."

"Really? A gift? We've only just met. I regret that I didn't get you anything, Amy."

Amy looked from Ian to Sherlock and Sherlock just closed his eyes, shook his head, and laughed.

"It's quite alright, Mister Ian. This is just a little something." Amy went to her purse, came back and handed Ian a large bag of gummy worms. She sat next to Ian and gave him the bag.

"My favorite, how did you know!"

"I had a hunch." Amy smiled at Sherlock.

Ian made to open the bag of worms. John stopped him, "Hey, no way. After dinner, sir."

Ian scowled and Amy laughed. "Mister? Sir? You've got quite the names around here."

"Well, I am the King."

"King Ian?"

"King Ian Thomas, at your service." Ian stood in his chair and bowed.

"Sit down, Ian." Sherlock said, opening up a bottle of wine. He motioned to Amy, asking if she wants any, and she said no. "No? Alright." He poured himself and John a glass each, and by then John was sitting at the table setting down the pot of Mac and Cheese.

During dinner the four made pleasant small talk. Amy asked Ian all about school and what he likes, John asked Amy about work and America, Ian asked Amy about America.

"I've always wanted to go to America. What's it like there?"

"Well, it's, uh," Amy thought for a minute, "It's crowded."

"London's crowded."

"Yeah, but I like London crowded. America crowded isn't like London crowded."

"Do you live in a big city?"

"Yes, New York City."

"New York City? Daddy, let's go there one day."

"No. I hate America. I'm never leaving London."

"You went to Berlin last week!" Ian shouted to Sherlock.

"That was for a case."

"Dad, can we go to America?"

"Sure. One day." John said. Sherlock glared at him. "What? I like America just fine."

"Why did you leave London, Amy?" Ian asked.

"For work. I had a great job offer there."

"What do you do?"

"I'm involved in a lot of boring business."

"Like what?"

"Well, you know when you go out and you see advertisements on buildings or newspapers or magazines? I make those advertisements."

"Sounds wonderful."

"It's actually quite boring, to be honest. I have to work with other people and we all have to agree, and that's not always easy."

"Do you have any children, Amy?" Ian asked without even acknowledging her job explanation.

Amy was stunned. She looked at Ian, then John, then Sherlock. They all exchanged strange glances and finally Amy broke the silence, "No, Ian. I don't."

"But I've seen a photo of you, in Dad's book. You're fat, like baby fat."

"Ian!" Sherlock snapped.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Ian paused, "What's that word, Dad? Uhm, oh, pregnant. Right, Dad?"

"Right, Ian." John stared at his food, his face was flushed.

"If you were pregnant, why don't you have any children?"

Amy didn't know what to say, all of this should be Sherlock and John's area. Sherlock grabbed John's hand and squeezed it tight. They all sat silent for a moment hoping Ian would drop it.

"Dad, can I open my worms now?"

"Yes. Go ahead. H-have as many as you want."

"Oooh, great!"

The silence continued.

"So, why?" Ian asked with a mouthful of gummy worms.

"Why what, son?"

"Why were you pregnant, and now you have no kids, Amy?"

"Well, I, well-"

"She gave her baby up for adoption." John intervened. Sherlock looked at John, stunned. He squeezed John's hand again and swallowed.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that she gave her baby to someone else, and that someone else raised the baby as their own." John explained.

"Huh." Ian said, pulling another handful of worms out.

There was more silence, and Amy began to cry. John began to cry too, because he knew his son, even as a six-year-old, was smart enough to figure out that Amy is his birth mother.

"Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"I wasn't in any of the pictures in your book."

"You're right."

"Until the end."

"Yes."

"And I was a baby."

"You were."

"And then Amy was gone."

"She was."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Ian?" Sherlock's voice was deep and serious; he was very proud of his son for being this smart, but very scared of what this was going to do to John.

"Was I Amy's baby?"

John's voice squeaked a little bit, "Yes, Ian."

"So she gave me to you?"

"S-sort of."

"What does that mean?"

"See, Ian, uhm," Sherlock began, "To make a baby, there needs to be something a man gives called sperm, and something a woman gives called an egg. And the baby _needs _these two things to be made. Well, Dad and I found Amy and she gave us an egg. That was very kind of her, you see? And then you were born."

"I see." Ian's facial expression hadn't changed the whole time, and he was fixed on his bag of worms.

Amy was still crying. "I'm so sorry, John," she whispered to John. He held his hand up and closed his eyes.

"How does that make you feel, Ian?"

Ian shrugged, "I don't know." He looked at Amy and pressed his hand to her arm, "That was very nice of you, Amy." She smiled and touched Ian's hand.

"Thank you, Sir Ian."

"Sir Ian? I like that." Then, Ian got off his chair and went to John. John picked him up onto his lap and hugged Ian. "Are you ok, Dad?"

"Yes, my baby, it's alright."

Ian kissed his cheek and wrapped his arm around John's neck. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Ian."

Sherlock pulled the pair close and hugged them both tight. He kissed John's head, then kissed Ian's cheek. They hugged for a few minutes, then Sherlock stood and went to Amy. He then pulled her out of her chair and hugged her tight. He stroked her hair and soothed her from crying.

After that, the four went back to their meal and sat quietly. That is, until Ian got tired of the silence.

"So, Amy," he turned to Amy, "What are the stars like in America?"

Amy chuckled, "To be honest, I can't really see them."

"That's rubbish! Dad, I don't want to go to America anymore. You can't see stars there!"

John laughed, "Well, we'll go somewhere that we can see stars."

"Amy, did you know my Daddy doesn't know where Neptune is? Can you believe?"

They all laughed. After dinner, Ian pulled Amy up to his room to show her all of his books and toys. John and Sherlock cleaned up the kitchen.

Sherlock draped his arm over John's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, John. I didn't mean-I didn't know-I shouldn't have-"

"No, no," John pressed a finger to Sherlock's lips, "It's ok, Sherlock. It's all out now. He's fine, we're fine, she's fine. It's all…fine." John kissed Sherlock lightly.

"It is fine. Because he's our son and we love him."

"I know, that's exactly right."


	4. Chapter 4

Later, after Ian had gone to sleep and John took a walk with Gladstone, Sherlock and Amy sat in the living room talking. Finally, Sherlock stopped and eyed Amy.

"Amy, when are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you? Tell you what?"

"I don't mean to out you like this, but when are you going to tell me…your _news_?"

"Oh, Sherlock, I really can't get anything past you, can I?"

"Of course not."

"Well, I'm about a month along. Four weeks on Sunday."

Sherlock smiled and hugged Amy. "That's wonderful, Amy, just splendid."

"Thank you, yes it is. I'm so excited, I get to enjoy it all." Sherlock gave her a faint smile and Amy ruffled his hair, "Oh, don't, Sherlock. I love you and John and I was _so_ happy to do this for you. It's just now," Amy grasped her stomach, "It's my baby. I feel it this time."

"That's great, Amy. Who's the-whose baby-"

Amy laughed, "My boyfriend, Simon. We're, well," Amy held her hand up for Sherlock, "We're engaged."

"What! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just didn't know what you'd say. Baby before marriage and all."

"_Please, _Amy. You think I'm going to be correct with society?"

Amy laughed again, "I don't know. Anyway, that's why I came back. To tell my mother."

"That's wonderful. Is she thrilled?"

"Of course."

"What are you hoping for, girl or boy?"

"Well, I can only _hope _for a healthy baby!" Amy chuckled, "But I really want a baby girl." Sherlock laughed. "Have you two thought about…having another?"

"No, no! Especially not now that my favorite Baby-Mama is taken!"

John came back into the flat as Sherlock and Amy were laughing together. "What's funny?" John asked.

"I'm pregnant, John!"

"What? That's great, Amy!" John hugged her tight.

"Yes, about a month along. And I'm engaged."

"Sherlock didn't tell me-"

"I just told him."

Sherlock smirked, "I figured it out."

"Sod," John said, "Tell us everything."

The rest of the night was full of baby talk and fully catching up. Amy promised to stay in touch, to keep them updated, and her and Sherlock made dinner plans for the night before she leaves. They hugged and congratulated and apologized and said goodnight.

When John had finally fallen asleep, Ian migrated to Sherlock and John's bed.

"Dad?" Ian shook John's arm.

"Wh-what? Ian?" John pulled Ian onto his chest.

"I had a nightmare about octopi in space."

"What? That's just silly now isn't it? There aren't octopi in space. Here, lay here, between Daddy and I. That's it." Ian snuggled between him and Sherlock. "It's alright."

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Ian." John kissed Ian's forehead and the two of them drifted to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong><em>*Thank you for reading! I hope everyone enjoys. Please review! <em>**


End file.
